Games
by Steve Zissou
Summary: She and I have this game we play. Can't tell you when it started, when she came to me, slink slink slinking by looking devastatingly bored with: Him. Us. The static world. AU
1. Games

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I don't like you, more than likely. I have written terrible things before but honestly, can it be worse than what I've read in this section of this website? Probably not. Am I going to knock your socks off? No. Probably not. If you like this, great. If you hate it, great. AU, in the sense that Bella never had renesmee (because that name is fucking dumb, so fuck it) and her change went as planned originally. Her powers are all about controlling another power, more than shielding, just a different view of it.

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She and I have this game we play. Can't tell you when it started, when she came to me, slink slink slinking by looking devastatingly bored with:

Him.

Us.

The static world.

You can only pine for the enthralling for so long. Then you get it and then you want something more thrilling, more beautiful, more, more, more. We're such greedy things, and she and I do not differ from anyone else who wants until they're dead.

So what do you do when you die and have forever to want? Forever to accumulate what moth and rust should destroy?

What does anyone do when faced with what seems like an eternity of nothing to do but eat and exist?

You play games.

She and I have this game we play. Can't tell you when she came to me, when it started, when she stopped being so enthralled with Edward long enough to become enthralled with herself. She was better, stronger, faster, exceedingly more beautiful and deadly. We all knew she would be and when _she_ realized this is when the game began.

At first it was just an experiment of control.

"I bet I can control..." his power, your power, my power. Alice stopped getting visions about anyone she refused to let her see. Esme would suddenly be hateful toward someone she'd never hated before. Carlisle nearly attacked a stray hiker when the hiker scraped their knee.

Edward couldn't read my mind, or the emotions she did not allow me to project.

Soon it was about the delicate process of specifics. Alice could see me in her visions again, but not the visions of when I would visit Bella's room. Edward could no longer feel my anxiety after she united with me in broad daylight during our hunts.

And now it's just this game, this game I fear she plays with all of us and it doesn't matter that it's dangerous and could break hearts. We all ache for that upheaval of our worlds, our static, eternal worlds.


	2. Leaving

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Here we go again, here we go again. You asked for it.

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It's a Tuesday afternoon and she's playing solitaire, the kind where you flip three cards over instead of one. She's got a king, ten, four, a five and she slides a six to a built up pile of spades.

And then it's off with his head, and she's got a seven flipped over by the time she hears Alice scream. Cards go flying and a twist of her stomach brings her hand to her gut where she suddenly bends forward so she can see into the next room. Her lips part but words don't form on her tongue, so, instead she snaps her mouth shut and leans back into the couch to stare at the mess of cards on the coffee table, on the hardwood floor, on her lap.

"We're leaving," Jasper is holding out a hand that is covered in glittering dust. Bella leans forward again and sees Alice's contorted face covered with the same powder.

"I wasn't finished with my solitaire game," she starts but he is already pulling her up by her arm and leading her to the door where Carlisle stands.

Carlisle, with his eyes shining like rubies and downcast. Lately he can't seem to look anyone in the eye. Bella waves as they slip out the door.

She knows she should feel some kind of regret because it's really all her fault. Carlisle's shame, Alice's pain, her husbands demise are all because of her, but she feels more pride than anything else. That and a burning in her throat that sets her whole body on fire and drives her mad, mad, mad.

* * *

Jasper doesn't speak to her again until they're in Colorado.

"One day you're going to start to hate yourself."

_Maybe_, she thinks, _maybe not._

"What about you?" she asks.

"I'm used to hating myself. Didn't for a while but then it all started again on your eighteenth birthday. Hated the way I craved your blood, hated how I craved any human blood. Hated what our venom did to you..."

"So why are you here?" She knows why she wants him there. Her hand drifts up his torso lightly as he speaks.

"I'm just waiting for that humanity to seep back into your bones. You'll need me then."

That night they make love under the moonlight on the banks of a winding creek and when he takes his final thrust into her he moans his former lover's name. Bella knows he would cry if he could.


End file.
